


how to disappear completely

by hellkeeper



Series: Constant and Variables. [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe., Hints of reincarnation, M/M, Modern AU, Radiohead, angry boys swearing, coffee-shop au, university - au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 03:50:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1290208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellkeeper/pseuds/hellkeeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Eren and Jean hate the living shit out of each other, but some how manage to find something to call their own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	how to disappear completely

**Author's Note:**

> Written because I was in a funk about the future, and because angry boys are just so much fun to write. First time writing in third person since a long time, so bare with me. More notes at the end!
> 
> There is an indirect sequel: "Constants and Variables".

           

            Eren Jaeger waits for his morning coffee. In Eren's world, waiting means wearing a deep wrinkled scowl, tapping his feet rapidly and sighing deeper than the craters of the moon. He's an impatient guy and running very low on caffeine for his nine o'clock class. And if there is one thing Eren cannot stand, it's not having his morning coffee.

            "Flat white for...uhh, E- _Erenita_ ," shouts the freckled barista behind the counter.

            Scrap that. If there's one thing Eren Jaeger cannot stand, it's humans. More specifically, a human idiotically named Jean Kirschstein.

            He shouts again. " _Erenita_? A flat white for _-_ "

            Eren snatches the takeaway cup. "It's Eren," he says firmly, "and tell that idiot behind the counter to stop fucking up my name."

            'Freckles' gives a sweet apologetic smile, "Sorry about that, sir. I'll be sure to remind him not to joke around anymore."

            He says that every time.

            "You say that every time," deadpans Eren.

            'Freckles' flashes a wry smile and chuckles. "Sorry, Eren."

            _Erenita_ rolls his eyes and stomps off, scalding hot flat white in hand. He catches a glimpse of a smirking Jean steaming milk behind the coffee machine. "Why you smiling, Kirschstein? Finally getting laid tonight?"

            Jean plasters on his most customer-friendly, Colgate-smile. "It's nothing, sir. I just love making coffee." The customers waiting in line look visibly shocked at Eren's attitude towards the fabulously sincere Jean Kirschstein, star employee of the _Cafe Maria_ on Eren's university campus. To save himself from future drama, because some of the customers in line are students in his classes, Eren decided to be the bigger man. He goes over to the counter where Jean is, stretches around the coffee machine and sticks his middle finger a few centimeters from the two-toned hair's face, before storming off to class.

            Some would say that _actual_ steam was seen gushing out of Eren's orifices. Others would say that his blood starting boiling to the point where his skin bubbled.  Either way, Eren is mad. And Jean loves it.

 

 

            ~

 

           

            "So I hear you're picking fights with the fabulous employee at a particular cafe," says Armin Arlert, long time friend and advisor of all things. The hot-blooded Eren and Armin have been friends since childhood. They met during the first grade, when Armin transferred schools. Of course, he was the object of fancy for many. Mostly bullies, and the occasional first-grade bitch who'd tease Armin for having hair like a girl. To be honest, Armin's hair was a bit feminine, but bob cuts were in at the time. And so his parents thought, "let's try to be _vogue_ ". What _vogue_ meant, they had no idea. They just saw the word in some French fashion magazine.

            "Shut the fuck up. I don't need to hear this from you," sulks Eren, biting on the plastic lid of his takeaway flat white.

            “Why do you insist on going back there? You know Jean’s going to be there. Just go to the one across the quad,” reasons Armin.

            “That place makes the worst coffee, and it’s like almost fifty cents more expensive,” replies Eren, ripping the lid off his cup with his teeth. “Plus...he makes a good flat white.”

            Armin perks up from his book. “What did you say? I didn’t hear. You were mumbling”

            That’s a lie. Armin did hear.

            Eren clears his throat. “I _said_ that he makes an ...okay-ish flat white.”

            After a brief silence, Armin asks. “Who?”

            “Kirschstein, you inbred!” shouts Eren in the middle of the university food court. It garners him a few odd looks of disapproval. “ _It_ _’s that guy again._ _”_ _“He_ _’s always so angry._ _”_ _“Like seriously, he needs to get laid._ _”_ Eren shrinks back whilst Armin sneaks in a small grin from the pages of his book. “You’re an asshole, you know that.”

            “I didn’t. Thanks for telling me.”

            Eren punches Armin in the shoulder. It should also noted that Eren was also once one of those bullies and first-grade bitches who used to tease Armin. But he soon found out that Armin wasn’t all that bad – not after a few good nose punches, of course.

            “I don’t even get his problem. Like seriously, he needs to grow the fuck up,” huffs the green-eye boy. “I mean, I’ve stop doing shit to him since we finished high school, can’t he do the same?”

            “I’m sure he’s just teasing you because he’s bored.”

            Eren growls. “He needs to get a girlfriend, or at least finally get laid. Wasn’t he crushing on Mikasa? I’m sure I can convince her to give him a ride for a night.”

            And if by some cosmic irony, a fist flies straight into Eren’s side. “No.”

            “M-Mikasahhhhhhhh,” Eren heaves, winded from the side. The black-haired beauty elegantly sits down on an empty seat like a queen from a distant country. Mikasa Ackerman, adopted sister of Eren Jaeger, is a superior being and should never be used for such _vulgar_ methods.

            Armin gives a casual seated bow to the queen. “Mikasa. And how was your day?”

            “Good, yours?” replies Mikasa, nose pointed in the air like a tower of diamonds.

            “Great,” replies Armin.

            “Coffee boy problems, again?” asks the queen, giving a pointed look towards the teary-eyed Eren.

            “He’s such a prick,” replies Eren having recovered from his long breathless heaves. He shoves the empty coffee cup directly in front of Mikasa’s face to the point where it almost touches the tip of her towering nose. “He wrote my name as _Erenita_.”

            The queen cracks a smile. “That one’s pretty good.”

            Eren crushes the cup in his hand like a human giant. “Don't take his side. I am _not_ battling him alone."

            "You act like this is some sort of war," chides Mikasa. "Maybe you should grow up. Or get coffee from somewhere else."

            " _He's_ the one that needs to grow up," says Eren, "and I can't go to another coffee shop."

            The queen quirks her perfectly tailored eyebrows. "Why is that?"

            "Because… he makes good coffee," mumbles Eren through the gaps of his teeth, like he's afraid of having bad breath.

            "Sorry, I didn't hear that. What did you say?"

            That's a lie. She heard it all.

            "Goddammit. Kirschstein makes a good cup of coffee, alright?" he exasperates.

            And because the universe is against Eren Jaeger, the said Kirschstein saunters up to their table, shit-eating grin plastered on like face paint on a clown. "Thanks, _Erenita_. I've always been told I make a sick-ass flat white."

            "Ahh Jean. You off work already?" asks Armin, completely ignoring the fuming Jaeger next to him.

            "On my break and thought a snack pack would be great," replies Jean, waving his takeout bag in the air like wind chimes. "It was quite busy today. Mind if I sit here?"

            Mikasa and Armin flash each other glances, before the queen replies first, "It's fine."

            Right before Jean even sets his firm tush on the seat, Eren gathers his things and gets up, shoving Jean right in the shoulder before he sets off.

            "E-Eren, wait!" shouts Armin.

            "Let him go," says Jean. "Better let him cool off by himself, rather than with a fist in my face."

            An awkward silence falls between the three. Mikasa taps away on her phone, Armin continues reading and Jean starts to devour his snack pack. The three have known each since primary school. Jean was never in the trio's circle of friends, but they were close enough to sustain idle chit chat.  The funny thing is, Eren has known Jean longer than he's known Armin. The two were neighbours from the moment they were born. They went to the same preschool together, had their first fight on the second day of attending said preschool. Went to the same primary school and high school. And now, they both attend the same university, with Jean working at Eren's favourite café. If fate could speak, it would be laughing until her smile lines become cemented into her face. You could say that Eren and Jean are destined, or even soul mates. But they're not. Intertwined would be the better term. Their fates are spinning and locking against each other. Every moment of their lives they clash and pop and sizzle together, like the embers of a campfire.

            "How are you these days, Jean?" asks Armin.

            Jean swallows his bite of his chicken burger. "Not bad. Though my macro-econ' mid-sems is coming up, and I'm dreading life."

            Armin chuckles. "Only natural."

            "You?"

            "I'm pretty okay. Theatre doesn't have any mid-sems, so life is pretty breezy right now."

            Silence falls again. Mikasa is off her phone and now digging the dirt out of her nails, Armin heavily invests himself in his book again and Jean polishes off the rest of his meal.

            "So… umm… How's Eren?" asks Jean, trying to be as casual as possible. He doesn't even look up from his snack pack.

            " _Erenita_ is fine," Mikasa replies this time, nose still high up in the sky.

            Jean chuckles from the heart. "That's good."

             "Why do you care?" snaps Mikasa.

            "N-no reason. He just seems different lately," mumbles Jean. He's always been afraid of the wrath of Mikasa. For someone so high and mighty, it's hard to believe she's so protective of Eren and Armin. Jean remembers the times where he and Eren used to get into fist fights, and Mikasa was the one who would break it up in place of the teachers who were too afraid to get caught in the crossfire.

            "Maybe it's because you keep calling him names," suggests MIkasa. "I thought you've gotten past the name calling, Jean. We're not in high school anymore."

            "I know, I know," sighs Jean. "But I don't know what else to do. The guy hates me, and I'm not going to lie, I think he's a dick too... but there's something in his eyes that makes me feel like something is up."

            Mikasa brings her high nose down and looks at Armin. In response, he shrugs. "We haven't noticed anything."

            "Ahh, It's probably just me then," says Jean. "Maybe I am teasing him too much." The queen glares at him with an icy wrath and Armin purses his lips together and continues reading. "I'll see you guys later. Nice talk."

            Jean gets up and tosses his rubbish out before he leaves the food court.

            "He's not a bad guy, you know," mumbles Armin.

            "Whatever, bob-cut."

 

            ~

 

            Eren's eyes snap open. Cold sweat drips down his face and back like insects on a summer night. Breath haggard, Eren tries gains his bearings. He's in the quad, laying on the grass underneath the large oak tree. In his hands are fist full of grass he has pulled whilst he was dreaming. Lips cracked and throat dry, he tries to speak. He can't. He tries to get up, tries to move his legs, his arms, his neck. He can't. He's frozen in a deep pit of paralysis. A ghostly weight sits on his chest. His breathing becomes more shallow and desperate. Tears well up in the corners of his eyes. He wants to scream, to get someone to help him. Eren hears mumbling, distorted and low. He slowly makes it out.

 

            _Eren_ …

            It's his name.

            _Eren._

            What's in a name?

            _Eren!_

            Who are you?

 

            "Eren! Get up."

Eren launches himself up. Cold sweat drips down his face and back like insects on a summer night. His breath is haggard. But he can move. Thank all the lords of the high heavens, Eren Jaeger can move!

            "W-what…"

            "You alright?" says a low voice, the same voice that brought him out of his sleep paralysis. A warm hand grips his shoulders in support.

            "I'm fine- Jean!" Eren flings himself back. "What the fuck are you doing?"

            The other boy flushes like the world is about to end. "What are you doing?! Having a nightmare in the middle of the quad like some homeless bum."

            "What's it to you, assfuck?" barks Eren, wiping the sweat off his brow with his sleeve.

            Jean seethes. "My god, Eren, why are you such a dick for?"

            "Excuse me?!" shouts Eren, edging closer to Jean.

            "I only tried to help."

            "I don't need help. Especially not yours."

            Eventually, other students start to notice the commotion and Eren and Jean decide to do the smartest thing they've ever done this whole day and settle down.

            "Aren't you meant to be working?" asks Eren, falling back onto the grass next to Jean.

            "I just finished," Jean lies back and perks himself up with his elbows whilst watching the oak tree dance with the wind. "Saw you lying here, so I thought I'd say hi. But then it turns out you were umm… having a nightmare"

            And by 'hi', Jean actually means that he created a new nickname for _Erenio_ , and desperately wanted to share. _Erenio_. Pretty cute, huh?

            "Yeah," _Erenio_ sighs, as if he kept that breath in for life times.

            Jean darts his eyes around awkwardly and hums. "Youwannatalkaboutit."

            "What? I didn't hear you."

            It's the truth. Eren had no idea what Jean was mumbling about.

            "I _said_ , d-d you wanna... You know...."

            "Goddammit, Kirschstein. Spit it out!"

            Jeans eyes furrow together. _Eren can be so fucking difficult sometimes_ , he thinks to himself. "Do you wanna talk about it." He sputters.

            "What?! Hell no," the other boy flushes.

            Jean grunts. "Whatever, Jaeger."

            The two sit together in mutual anger induced silence. It's not Eren's fault that Jean is like this. _Jean can be so fucking difficult sometimes_ , he thinks to himself.

             The blonde takes a textbook out of his duffel bag and starts to delve deep into the abysmal depths of macroeconomics. Jean doesn't know why he's doing anything even related to commerce or business. He hates the idea of dressing up in a suit every morning, catching peak hour public transport with a hundred other office workers and being cooped up inside a building for the rest of his life. As a kid, Jean had dreams of being hero. He would save the world from huge man-eating giants along with his comrades. Of course, it would never be, but Jean never would have believed his life would be this lack luster.

            Eren, on the other hand, takes out a novel he's been putting off for the better half of the week and delves deep into the abysmal depths that is romantic Gothicism. Eren doesn't know why he's doing an English degree. Sure, he enjoys reading books, any type, classical, sappy teen fiction, sci-fi. But he never would have believed he would end up doing such a useless degree as this. Like what was he supposed to be when he grew up? A librarian?

            The 'fated' pair stay like this until the sun starts to fade and dip into the horizon like a shipwreck. Eventually, there's not enough light to support the two in their readings, so they decide to head home.

            "Wanna head back now?" Asks Jean, slamming his textbook close after getting absolutely nothing from the chapters he read.

            Eren eyes Jean suspiciously. "What? You gonna' walk me home?"

            In response, Jean rolls his eyes hard enough to knead bread. "Did you forget that we lived next door to each together?"

            "No. I just thought we would walk together with like fifty meters apart so it looked like we didn't know each other. You know...like normal,"

            The other boy grunts for what feels like the billionth time this afternoon. "You're so difficult sometimes, Jaeger."

            "You're not so easy yourself, Kirschstein," responds Eren with equal grunt force. He shoves his novel, barely digested, into his bag and stands up. He stares down at Jean on the grass like a peasant below him in every possible way. "You coming or not?"

            "Y-yeah."

            And the pair walk off into the distance, with a less than fifty meter gap for the first time since ever.

 

            ~

 

            "So, how's uni and all?" asks Eren. Mind you, these are the first words the two have said to each other since they started to head home. It's been at least twenty minutes of this stifling silence.

            "F-fine. Mid-sems start next week, so I gotta' catch up a bit," replies Jean, caught off guard by Eren's sudden question. His hands become sweaty, and his back feels like it's being stab by millions of pins. "So…umm…h-how are you?"

            "Fine," replies Eren, seemingly unfazed by Jean's obvious flushness. Eren likes to believe that he is more street-smart than the average boy his age. His people skills are impeccable and his ability to read people is unparalleled.

No, that can't be true. Jean is being very obvious. Eren must be _very_ dense.

            Silence falls on the two yet again. Jean finds it suffocating, whilst Eren starts to slowly get ticked off, as if the silence was sparking an inner nonsensical aggravation.

            "So like, are you going to even _try_ and talk to me? Or just walk me home in utter silence, like some stalker?" piques a frustrated Eren, already getting tired of Jean's silent company. Granted, this has been the longest he two have been alone without arguing or breaking fists into each other's noses and chins.

            "Oh, uhh..." Jean stumbles, choosing to focus on everything that isn't Eren, like the road, or how a stump of dog shit is lying on the grass like it's laughing at him. _Oh, how I would love to be that dog shit right now_ , Jean think to himself.

            Eren emits a low growl. "Whatever. I'm too tired to be social,"

            Jean grunts, wanting to beat himself up. In fact, if he were alone, he surely would have smack his own head out of his own stupidity. Jean isn't a hard person to talk to. He's able to read social cues and respond to them efficiently, even if he secretly hates most of the people he talks to. But Eren was always the exception. He never could talk to Eren properly and he doesn't know why. So instead of ignoring the boy, he chose to make fun of him and bully him, since he had the larger build. But he didn't expect Eren to retaliate back with equal force. So it ended up being a sort of battle, where they'd be fighting to overpower the other's relentless stubborness. It started with Jean just bullying Eren for fun, but it soon grew to a strong disdain for the boy. Eren stood for everything Jean hated - brashness, rebellion, a flippant disregard for the judgment of others and most of all, the drive to do whatever he wanted without fear. His lack of care angered Jean to the very core. This lasted up until the first year of university when Jean started working at _Cafe Maria_. During their first year, even if Eren came into the cafe ordering his flat white, Jean would just ignore the past and treat him like an ordinary stranger. Eren did the same.

            But one day when Eren walked in, Jean felt sick. There was a swirl of bitterness and ice in his stomach. At first, he thought it was food poisoning from the pesto pasta Marco (Freckles) brought to lunch that afternoon. But then he saw something in Eren's eyes. No, it wasn't the blue flecks peppering his green orbs, but a darker shade of shadow. It clouded his eyes like a heavy fog between winter and spring. It distracted Jean so much that he spelt Eren's name as _Aaron_. Of course, Eren got upset over the name, thinking it was Jeans way of being a prissy dickfuck and proceeded to yell at him. But the sickness in Jean's stomach fell away, and when he glanced up at Eren's green - and angry - orbs, he saw the shadow dissipate. And that's how the name calling started.

 

            The pair eventually reaches the street their home abodes resides. It's the pitch of night, crickets chirp and the moon and stars sing their divine silent lullaby.

            "See ya', Kirschstein," announces Eren as they walk past Jean's two-storey house.

            Jean hums a goodbye feeling his eyes droop low. "Bye."

            Eren drags his feet towards the steps of his front porch. He whips out his keys, but before he uses them, he hears a loud "Fuck!". He looks to his side and sees Jean kicking his front door. Like the idiot Jean is (and also because the universe is against the two of them), he's forgotten his keys. And of course, no one is ever home. His mum at work, and his father died of lung cancer two years ago. Also he has no siblings. Eren pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. _Why are you so difficult, Kirschstein_ , he thinks to himself, _Better yet, why should I even help him?_

            "Kirschstein!" shouts Eren. Jean looks up in the voice's direction. "You 'right?"

            Jean internally wants to combust because he just had to have forgotten his keys on the day the pair walks home together. "Left my keys in my other bag! And no one's home."

            Eren rolls his eyes, confident that Jean can't see. He debates with himself whether or not he should let Jean wait it out at his house. He knows his parent's won't mind, and Mikasa, won't even leave her room. But why should it matter? Jean is a prick and Eren hates his guts. Why should he care for a dickfuck like Jean Kirschstein? Eren sighs. No matter how hard he hates his neighbour, Eren isn't the type of person to abandon someone because of some petty hate. He wouldn't leave behind someone to die, when Eren himself can do something about it. Jean won't die from waiting outside his house for a few hours, but the principle is still the same. Not without some apprehension, Eren motions Jean to come over.

            It takes a while for Jean to process what Eren's hand actions mean, but when it does Jean flushes. "I-In your …house?"

            "Can you fucking hurry up?" barks Eren from his front porch, not caring about disturbing his other neighbours. "I'm getting cold."

            For a split second, Jean debates whether or not to just reject the offer and sit on the steps of his house and wait for his mother to finish the late shift, like some homeless bum out in the winter's cold. That way, he would keep his dignity – and probably sanity – and safely arrive to university tomorrow without any scars. But if there's one thing Jean hates more than Eren Jaeger, it's the cold. And it really _is_ getting cold. He lets out a frustrated growl. "Just wait a freaking minute will you, Jaeger?"

            Jean jogs to Eren's front porch, feeling the cold nip his nose like an ant's bite. Winter hasn't even settled in yet, and Jean already hates the weather. Eren glares at Jean breathing slightly harshly from the jog, to which Jean responds to an equally hard glare. Without even saying anything, Eren opens and strolls through his home, leaving the front door and Jean behind. The other boy soon follows and is greeted by the warmth of a trillion suns. Jean's only ever been in Eren's house when the Jaeger's invited them to dinner a few weeks after his father passed away. It was sweet of Eren's parents to, so Jean couldn't pass off the offer. And if you were wondering, Eren and Jean did not fight, physically, at least. They did have a few scuffles about the seating arrangements, but both of them put aside their petty arguments for the sake of neighbourly peace. The dinner was a success.

            Mr and Mrs Jaeger are lounged in the living room, watching TV and reading a book. Typical functions of a nuclear family. Eren announces that Jean "stupidly left his keys at home, and locked himself out. And is going to wait it out here." Jean gives a charming smile to the parents apologising for the intrusion. Eren rolls his eyes at Jean's ability to switch from absolute prick to totally parent-introducing-material charming.

            "So like…" starts Eren as he grabs a croissant from the kitchen and heads for the stairs "Just sit in the living room with my parents until your mum comes home. I'll see you tomorrow."

            And just like that, Eren Jaeger leaves Jean Kirschstein alone in the living room with his parents. Jean starts sweating, looking around for someone to save him. Maybe Mikasa is around and can help the poor boy. Nope. No one but Mr and Mrs Jaeger are around. So he sits quietly down on the seat furthest away from the two.

            "It shouldn’t be too long. My mum finishes around eleven," announces Jean.

            "Oh, don't worry, sweetie. You can stay as long as you like," comforts Mrs Jaeger.

            Jean has interacted with Mr and Mrs Jaeger on numerous occasions outside his own house, so it's not entirely awkward. And remember, Jean is apt at reading social cues, so talking to Eren's parents is no issue, right? Mr Jaeger asks him questions about university, work, his mother. And Jean replies with generic "It's all great!" answers as best he can.

Jean thinks to himself how nice it would be to have such a normal family. Even when his old man was alive, him and his mum would never sit in the living room peacefully and go about their night. His mum would always been on the phone bitching about how shitty her husband is, and Jean's dad would be chain smoking in the backyard with a bottle of beer. A pang of jealously hits Jean in the chest when he sees family portraits on the wall. Mikasa, looking as beautiful as ever. Mr and Mrs Jaeger looking proud. Even Eren is smiling in the picture. _Stop it, Kirschstein_ , thinks Jean.

 When they offer him some refreshments, Jean replies with a polite no and says he's fine with just watching TV. The television is showing some action film with typical male protagonists that are all gun-ho about everything. Jean hates movies like those. Where the main character has no care in the world and just beats the bad guy without a sweat. Why? Because Jean knows that it's never the case in real life. Mr. Jaeger eventually sees that Jean is beginning to get bored and asks:

            "Why don't you go to Eren's room?. He's got video games up there."

            "No, no. It's perfectly fine, Mr. Jaeger," reasons Jean, knowing full well that he would be stepping over boundaries he wouldn't ever consider. Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Jaeger know of their son's and Jean's violent history together. Almost every week they would be called up by the school and informed that their son has gotten into another fight, or became disruptive during class with another student. When they scolded Eren, they knew that their son was just being stubborn and rebellious and never thought to blame Jean, who retaliated, and sometimes initiated, the fights. Not to mention, Jean was always a wonderful boy when they said hi. But the frequency of these calls dwindled come high school, and they never heard a peep of any fights after they graduated. So, they assumed the two finally settled their differences and became friends.

            Come ten-thirty, Jean's mobile rings, " _Jean. Just gotta tell you that I need to stay back a bit tonight, so I won't be home until morning_ ,"

            Jean sighs. "Are you serious? I'm locked out of the house, Mum."

            " _What? Then where are you now?"_

"I'm at Eren's house."

            " _That's good. Is Karlura there? Put her on the phone._ "

            Jean hands Mrs Jaeger the phone and they exchange pleasantries. He couldn't believe his luck. First, he forgets his keys, then his mother has to stay back. Was the universe really against him? Did good o'l fate decide it was a great day to fuck things up for him.

            "…No, no. It's absolutely fine. I'm sure Eren won't mind," says Mrs Jaeger, Jean catching the tail end of their conversation.

            She soon hands back the phone to Jean and his mother explains the deal. " _So you're going to be staying here over night. Mrs Jaeger has already agreed to it and I'm not letting you sleep on the front porch. Now I know you don't quite agree well with Eren, but you'll have to deal with it. Okay?_ "

            If there is one thing Jean is not, it is being obedient to his parents. "B-but –"

            " _Don't even try, Kirschstein_ ," interrupts his mother. " _Now goodnight. I'll be home before you wake up."_

And she hangs up. Scratch that, Jean is a mumma's boy.

            Mrs Jaeger leads Jean to Eren's room upstairs and knocks on his door. "Honey, Jean needs to stay over the night. So can you get the extra futon and-"

            The door creaks open and Eren's head pops out. "No."

            "Eren Jaeger. You _will_ get that extra futon and you _will_ sleep very soundly and _quietly_ with Jean for one night," seethes Mrs Jaeger. Eren stares at his mother as if she's not the slightest bit commanding. Jean on the other hand is palpitating at the firmness of Mrs Jaeger, never seeing the usually good-natured woman be so stern.

            "Fine," groans Eren, surrendering his stare down with his own mother. He opens his door fully and motions him in. "Just set your shit down."

            Mrs Jaeger smiles sweetly to Jean and walks back downstairs, as Eren pushes past him to walk into another room to grab a futon. Jean hesitantly takes his first steps into Eren's room, cautious of where his feet land. He act's like that may be booby traps, and if he steps on a particular spot, he'll blow up or maybe get his foot stuck in a bear trap. It is, after all, Eren Jaeger's bedroom.

            It's messy, books and papers scattered everywhere, a guitar lay haphazardly on the floor. Jean realises that it's an orderly mess. A mess where Eren, and only him, know where anything is. If you asked him where his cobalt guitar pick is, Eren would answer that it's underneath the his Gothicism textbook. The walls are littered with posters of bands Eren listens to, like Radiohead, Coldplay, The National. Jean isn't all that surprised about Eren's taste in music. The two have seen each other on numerous occasions looking at the same CD's at mega-music store. Not to mention, Jean could hear Eren pumping his music loud from his own bedroom. He never really minded. If there could be one thing the two wouldn't fight about, it would be music. It may be their only saving grace.

            "Move it, Kirschstein," intrudes Eren from behind, carrying the single-futon. He dumps it along a wall and proceeds to tidy everything up.

            "I'll, uhh, go to the bathroom while you clean," announces Jean, turning back into the corridor. He snaps his head left to right. "So, where is your bathroom?"

            "Door to the end, idiot," grunts Eren, while he's in the midst of stacking his various papers.

            "Thanks, dickhead," replies Jean. He can't fathom how he's going to survive the night with Eren. Hopefully, the tiredness will kick in and Jean will fall asleep in a matter of seconds upon laying down.

             Jean washes his face, trying to rub the grime off his skin with cold water. He smells his arm pits and is pleasantly surprised that it's not that bad. On the bathroom counter, is a male deodorant which is most likely Eren's. Jean smells it. _Yeah, it's definitely Eren's_. And then Jean blushes. He can't believe he just smelt Eren's deodorant so casually. Not only that, he actually _recognises_ his scent. That's it. Jean has officially crossed the boundary and is now a certified creeper. He needs to leave the house before he starts trying on Eren's underwear to see which one fits best.

            When Jean returns back to Eren's den, music greets him like an old lover and the messy boy is nowhere to be seen. He recognises the song.

_I jumped into the river and what did I see?_

_Black-eyed angels swam with me_

_A moon full of stars and astral cars_

_All the things I used to see_ _…_

            Jean walks up to the open window and stares out into the night sky. For Jean, music is always the most nostalgic thing in the world for him. He'd listen to old playlists he made when he was back in high school and would be reminded of a different time. And that was a good thing. Jean would forget about the hellhole he's living in now and be reminded of a time where things were different. Because different must be better than the life he's living now.

            " _And we all went to heaven in a little row boat. There was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt,_ " Jean softly sang with the light night breeze.

            "You should stop before the neighbours complain," laughs a voice from out of nowhere.

            "Ahh, fuck. Don't scare me like that," shouts Jean.

            "Pussy," teases Eren, lying on top of the roof with his hands behind his head. "You wanna join?" he asks, eyeing an empty space next to him.

            "Sure," replies Jean. He climbs outside the window and is met with the cold night creeping through the crevices of his body. Laying himself next to Eren, he feels the roof tiles digging into his back and thinks how Eren could possible find this comfortable. But then Jean looks up and sees how wide his view is of the night sky and, almost instantly, his discomfort disappears. It's rare to see the expanse of the sky without tree's and buildings litter your view, but when you're on top of a roof there's nothing blocking your view. And it really takes his breath away.

            The two lay in silence. Jean watches the sky like a cosmonaut and lets the music wash over him. Slowly, he begins to feel the ill effects of not bringing a jacket and shivers until goose bumps rise. Eren notices Jean's aversion to the cold and unwraps the scarf around his neck and tosses at Jean's face. "I don't want you sneezing while I try and sleep, alright?"

            "Yeah, whatever," is all that Jean can reply as he suppresses a blush. He wraps the scarf around his neck. It's still warm, the lingering remnants of Eren's body heat mixes with Jean's. It even smells of Eren's deodorant mixed with something else. A sweet tang of watery citrus, something Jean instantly recognises as being completely Eren. Just so you know, this isn't a creepy observation of Jean's, it's the product of numerous physical brawls, which consisted of very close physical contact. Overtime, Jean has begun to unconsciously register that watery citrus scent as _Eren_. Of course, he would never admit it, but Jean sort of likes it.

            The song changes.

_That there, that's not me_

_I go where I please_

_I walk through walls_ _…_

            " _I'm not here, this isn't happening, I'm not here, I'm not here,_ " sings Eren to himself. "Sorry about the vibe-killing music. I've been in an angst-y mood lately."

            "It's cool," assures Jean. "I'm always in the mood for some Radiohead."

            Eren chuckles. "Of course."

            The droning guitar and soft voice fill the silence between the two. Jean would never admit it, but he's always liked Eren's singing, even all the way back in high school when Eren performed for Music Night. Likewise, Eren thought Jean's little breakout in song before was kind of nice, but would never actually say it to his face. The two of them have too much pride to do such things. Stupid boys.

            "Do you believe in alternate universes?" asks Eren out of the blue.

            "What do you mean?"

            "You know, like a world different from ours. We're all still the same people, but with just some things different," replies Eren, eyes focusing on the stars. "Like maybe in some universe, instead of being guys, the two of us would be girls."

            Jean scroffs. "Or maybe there's a universe out there where we _actually_ get along."

            "Never. That'll never happen," says Eren flatly, earning a nod of approval from Jean.

            "You know, I've always thought that your dreams are visions of another 'you'" adds Jean, "A past 'you' from some distant past or distant future."

            Eren hums a non-committal response. "That sounds like some bullshit."

            "Whatever, shithead," snaps Jean, nudging Eren's side with his elbows. "It's not like you actually believe in this cosmic crap."

            "So what if I do?" provokes Eren, as he stares into the side of Jean's face. Jean glances at Eren staring at him. More precisely, Jean stares back into Eren's green orbs, and notices the flecks of blue are more prominent in the moonlight. "What makes you think it's all _cosmic crap_?"

            Jean can feel Eren's hot breath on his nose and tries to stifle down his flush. "You just don't look like the type to be all into skepticism."

            Eren chortles and turns away to stare back into the night sky. "You're right. I'm not."

            "Then why did you ask if I believed in alternate universes?" asks Jean, not letting the argument fall through like that.

            How Eren will respond is nothing Jean could have predicted. Jean thinks that Eren would just jab his side, or bark some stupid response, ' _whatever, asshole'_. Instead, Eren stares longingly at the stars as if he wants to nuzzle his face between galaxies and breathe in cosmic dust.

            "I just… I feel like there's more to my life than there is now. Something beyond my control, beyond even my existence," starts Eren in a low voice. "I feel like this reality is a dream, and my dreams are my reality. That, me, living a life of a university student with no real big aspirations, is just a short dream. I'll wake up and realise it was all a lie, and return to living an existence that's not my own. Do you ever get that feeling? When you wake up from a dream, and suddenly you realise that it was all in your head and then you feel shit and dread the day ahead?."

            The whole time Eren was speaking, Jean has been studying his side profile, watching every facial movement of his, from how Eren furrows his eyebrows when he says an 's' sound, to the shallow wrinkles that form around his eyes when he's thinking about what to say next.

            Eren continues, "I've been having these 'nightmares' lately. It's always the same. I see my friends die left and right, my parents disappear from my own eyes, I see the world dashed and divided like fireworks. I'm angry. I'm so fucking angry that I feels like I'm not even human anymore. And then _you're_ there. You're with me, fighting alongside me against the new world. No matter what, you were always there. And you are angry too! Angry at the world for taking away the things that mattered most. We're angry together, and then we die together. We die trying to fight against some chaotic birth of a world. And when I wake up, I'm fucking crying. Crying like the 'dream-me' is crying over the world."

            Eren still stares into the night, and Jean still watches Eren's emotions wash over his face with every word.

            "So do you really think that we dream about another 'us' from some distant world?" asks Eren.

            "If we really do dream about our past lives, then I guess the universe has a sick way of trying to make us be friends." says Jean, in a lame attempt to lighten the mood.

            But Eren doesn't notice. Instead, he looks at Jean, matches his gaze with the other and stares deep into his golden eyes. "You plague my dreams, Jean. I see you a lot. I see Mikasa, I see Armin, I even see that freckled co-worker of yours. But you're always the same. You're always angry alongside me. And it's weirdly comforting. Like I've got a partner to fall into hell with."Eren shuffles closer, leaning his head into the side of Jean's shoulders.

            Jean feels the boy's heat radiate from his body and into the pores of his skin. It tingles, but Jean loves it more than a warm bath. He holds himself back from sinking in deeper into Eren's warmth. "It's weird…"

            "What is?" asks Eren.

            Jean clears his throat. "After my old man died, it feels like an ocean is pressing down on me and my mum. My father's side hates my mum and I, and my mum's family is practically family only by name, so it was always just the two of us. I tried to work hard and move on, but the ocean was always there. I'd look up at the glimmering surface, unable to swim to the top. I always thought I was doing it wrong. That maybe I just needed to try harder to reach the surface. I was anchored to the ocean floor, destined to walk the depths until it was my turn."

            Eren scoots even closer to Jean so their shoulders touch. "I don't think I've said this yet, so… Sorry about your old man. He was pretty cool."

            "He really was," Jean chuckles. "But it doesn't matter, anymore. No amount of remorse will bring him back. I know that much at least." Jean breathes in deep, smelling the light scent of citrus from Eren's hair."But after you told me about your dreams, maybe I've been going about it the wrong way. I should be holding hands with someone at the bottom of the ocean floor. And then maybe we'd walk into the abysmal depth together, and just embrace the fact that death is here and will always stay."

            "Why are you studying business?" asks Eren with a hint of a smile. "You'd be a kick ass poet. Better than that shitty Elliot guy I had to study for."

            "Maybe I was a poet in some past life," mocks Jean

            "Dork," snorts Eren, elbowing Jean in his ribcage. "But really, why are you doing business? I thought you hated the idea of being a business man."

            A sigh erupts from Jeans mouth and Eren begins to wonder whether it was a good idea to bring this up. "Because it gets money," answers Jean, "I'm not like you, Eren. You've got your whole family, your mum and dad, Mikasa. But for me, it's me and my mother. She's barely home, working overtime just to pay the mortgage. And I'm lucky enough to earn some money for everything else. So compared to doing a useless degree in something I actually like, I opted out and choose a practical choice."

            "You sayin' my English degree is worth squat?" Eren sasses trying to lighten the mood.

            "In this society?" asks Jean matching Eren's degree of sass. "Yes. It's practically worth the same as the piece of paper you get when you graduate." Eren stays quiet and Jean begins to worry if it was stupid of him to say something like that. "Ignore that. I was being a jerk."

            "Yeah, you were," mumbles Eren, slightly disheartened, "But you're telling the truth. I still don't know what I'm going to do after I graduate. Kinda feels like I've gotten nowhere in my life."

            "You're telling me," sighs Jean, unconsciously scooting closer to the other boy for warmth.

            Eren doesn't seem to mind. "But you're doing like some finance thing, right? You've got the skills of a professional. That'll lead you to life of employment. Be happy, you fucker,"

            Jean snorts, mentally laughing at Eren's naivety. He thinks it's strangely adorable that some as steadfast as Eren can be simple minded in such things. Or maybe Jean was just being too cynical. "I don't think anyone becomes a business man because they can get off by crunching numbers and wearing suits."

            "You hate wearing suits?" meekly asks Eren. He doesn't say this, but he kind of thinks Jean would look good in a suit. Eren pictures Jean wearing a nice dress shirt and a light brown trench coat. Hands deep in his pockets, Jean would be riding on a train, waiting for his stop. Red nosed with white fog puffing out of his mouth, he would hide his face in his red scarf. _Eren's_ red scarf. The poor boy imagining Jean going to work in the morning blushes at the thought of his own scarf being worn around Jean's cold neck. _Stop it,_ he thinks to himself, _you don't have a fetish for people wearing your clothes._

            "It's not that I hate it, it's just because it's so ... So monotonous," explains Jean, tucking his chin into Eren's scarf. "Like is that _really_ what all my life has accounted to? Wearing a suit, sitting at an office, dealing with shitty clients. When I was a kid, I always felt like my life was so much more. Like maybe I could have been a super hero, saving the world from man eating titans. But here I am, learning about cost accounting and economic models. There's a part of me that wishes this is all a dream, and I'd wake up with a purpose.

            "I just feel like a fucking mess. A mid-life crisis at the age of nineteen. Maybe I just need to grow up."

            A hum of agreement slips out of Eren's lips. "I never thought you, of all people, would have these thoughts."

            "What do you mean _you_ _of all people_ ," quirks Jean.

            And then Eren explains how he always saw Jean as a organised guy with his whole life planned. He could see Jean working for this big firm in the city, married before he was thirty to a beautiful wife. Maybe one or two kids. A nice house with picket fences. A Labrador called 'Rover'. He'd grow old, watching his kids and grandchildren grow into fruitful butterflies. He'd die on his deathbed with a smile, holding hands with that beautiful wife and his children all grown up. Eren saw Jean as the picture perfect student, the perfect worker, the perfect husband and the perfect father. He doesn't say this, but Eren sees Jean as someone in a completely different league. He moves forward with his life while Eren himself falls two steps back.

            "You really think that?" Jean asks in disbelief before continuing. "I mean, I haven't even had a girl-" he shuts himself up before he reveals his dirty secret. (That he's a dirty virgin).

            Jaeger breaks out into a chesty laugh. "Are you fucking serious, Kirschtein? That's fucking rich. Oh my god."

            Jean flushes up in anger. "Shut the fuck up, asshole. I bet you're a fucking virgin too."

            The other boy gasps in mock horror. "You're a virgin too? This is fucking great. I can't, I can't even-" Eren can't even breathe.

            Jean glares at the cackling boy next to him, who is clutching his stomach in pain, and thinks to himself how he'd wish he could just toss the boy off the two storey roof and be done with the humiliation. He'll be able to rid himself of the person who knows his dirty secret. (That he's a bonafide, Virgin Mary). "Could you just shut the fuck up?"

            Eren wipes the tears off his eyes and replies in quick gasps. "No- I-I really-can't."

            Poor Mary Virgin sulks on the roof top, seriously wanting to commit murder. Surely Jean could handle the consequences. But no, he realises, he's a business major, not a law student. Once Eren settles down, he nudges a little closer to Jean to the point where his head is nicely nuzzled into Jean's shoulder. Virgin Mary reacts the only possible way any virgin would react - by staying very, very still.

            "To be fair, I've only had sex once," says Eren frankly. "Some chick at Reiner's house party. We were both drunk off booze and the mood. It was dirty and fast. I... I can't say I didn't regret it, though. It just felt wrong afterwards."

            A slight pang reverberates through Jean's chest. Whether it's because he found out that _even_ Eren-fucking-Jaeger has gotten laid before him, or whether it's _because_ Eren Jaeger has gotten laid, Jean doesn't know. And Jean really doesn't want to know.

            Eren looks up at Jean with his abyssal blue eyes. "Have you at least made out with anyone?"

            Jean can't even bare to look into those blue eyes, so he hides in face to the other side mumbling through his teeth: "No."

            "Ehh?" drags Eren, suppressing a giggle., "I seriously thought you were some hoedown slut. I'm kinda disappointed."

            "Well, _sorry_ ," snorts Jean. "I can't be that image of that perfect guy. I'm not perfect. And if you think perfect is having a stable job and a wife and kids to call your own, then I'm far from it. So deal with it, Jaeger."

            Eren chortles. "Sheesh, Kirschstein. It's fine. I don’t care if you're perfect or not. You'll still be the same assfuck that you've always been. I mean, I'm not perfect. And I don’t want to be. Being perfect seems like so much work and I'm lazy as hell. So you also better accept my imperfectness in it's full glory, Kirschstein, otherwise I'll have to drop you."

            "Whatever," grumbles Jean with a hint of a smile.

            Eren smiles too. It's a rare smile that not even Eren is used to. This smile is reserve for the moments of pure contentment and weightlessness. And for some reason, Eren decides this was one of those moments.

            "You know, I don't think I've ever talked to anyone like this before. Feels nice," says Eren bluntly, "Good talk, Kirchstein."

            "Yeah," says Jean, letting himself bathe in the night and in the warmth Eren emits and the watery citrus scent that lingers in the scarf and in the sight of the top of Eren's head. He then decides to do something weird, and totally not Virgin Mary-like. He decides to lift his arm to wrap it around Eren's shoulder.  It was awkward at first with Eren's head squeezing right underneath his armpits and causing Jean to break out in a nervous sweat. But Eren lifts his head up in compliance and rests it on Jean's broad shoulders, so his arm could easily curl around and shuffle the boy closer.

            S _mells like cinnamon and coffee_ , thinks Eren. And he doesn't mind. Eren doesn't mind that Jean smells like cinnamon and coffee. He doesn't mind that Jean is still a fucking virgin, or the type of guy that worries about shit he shouldn't even be thinking about yet. If anything, Eren is glad that Jean has finally opened up. Eren sees Jean as a person who puts on a front. He's polite to his friend's parents and cordial to his close friends. To Eren, Jean is aggressively taunting but also passive in a way that he's avoiding a real confrontation of his own emotions. Jean hides behinds his actions, whether it be reading and reacting to social cues, or breaking out into a fist fight with Eren. But he sees Jean for what he really is - a Virgin Mary with insecurities of almost every kind. And he _really_ doesn't mind.

            "Eren, I gotta' say something," says Jean as he hides his chin in Eren's scarf, palms sweating. "I –uhh, I'm sorry about high school and uh- primary school and university. I don't really hate you _that_ much. You're just kinda a prick, sometimes, and other times I just can't handle you. But tonight really changed something, so…um- I hope that there's no bad blood between us." Jean can feel Eren shaking on top of him in fits of suppressed giggles. "H-hey, don't fucking laugh, you shit."

            He doesn't stop laughing. "Oh Kirschstein, you're too much, man."

            "Oh forget it. You're such a dickfuck. I knew I shouldn’t have said anything" pouts Jean hiding a blush and his own freaking dignity in Eren's scarf.

            "Sheesh, calm your man-tits," teases Eren. "I forgive you, alright. But you know, since we're on the topic of apologies…I guess I might need to say sorry too. I know I'm not the easiest person to get along with.  I have opinions and I have no qualms about saying them to the world. And having you around just made me want to voice them even louder, and get in a few good hits for good measure. But I guess I don't really hate you that much either - at least not anymore. We've never really spoken to each other like this before, so maybe that was all we needed."

            Jean continues to hide his blush and not to mention his escalating heart beat. _Why is this kid making me so damn flustered_ , he thinks to himself.

            Eren continues. "But that doesn't mean I still don't want to hit that pretty face of yours."

            Jean splutters, " _Pretty_?"

            "N-no. I didn’t mean it like _that_ , asshole "stammers Eren. "It's just your face is-... your face just has that _pretty_ look to it, you know? Like a girl's, or something."

            Jean heats up at Eren being all flustered and all. He could dare say that it was _cute_.

            "Y-you still called me pretty, Jaegar," teases Jean in a vain attempt to readjust the mood to strictly brotherly-rivals.

            "Y-you're such a dickfuck," mutters Eren, perking himself up with his elbow and glaring at Jean all red faced and embarrassed. And that's all it takes for Jean to lose all control of his body and his sanity and his good will. "It's meant to be an insult. I mean you've got a girly – mmph"

            Jean grips Eren's collar and drags him down for a kiss. Virgin Mary slightly misses, colliding with the side of Eren's lips instead. It's a brief quick peck, but it was all that was needed to shut the two of them up. Eren tears away first, Jean letting go of Eren's shirt. He raises a fist, "-the fuck, Jean?" but before he connects the punch, he sees the hint of red on Jean's cheek, the slightly parted lips and the firm and unwavering look in his dewy golden eyes. The sight of Jean before him sends a heat throughout his body. A warmth that Eren as only felt in his dreams of Jean. Instead, of giving Jean a swollen jaw, Eren grabs the absolutely, delectable Jean by the collar and collides their lips together once again. Eren straddles Jean with breaking contact and grinds his body into the one underneath. The boy moans, allowing Jean to sneak his tongue into Eren's soft mouth exploring every crevice. Eren's moans deepen, and the sound goes straight to Jean's tightening pants. In response, Eren grinds even deeper into Jean, making sure his crotch gets the most attention and getting himself hard in the process.

            "Eren – w-we should stop" whimpers Jean when their lips finally separate.

            "Y-yeah," heaves Eren.

 

            The two lay next to each other, listening to whatever Eren has on his playlist. They chat about random things, like how the music industry has changed for the worst recently, or how anything now is art. But it's not all 'chat-like'. They argue, but nothing as heated as before. Instead, they argue about how some people put in the effort to look good at university, like Jean, and how some have a blatant disregard for fashion, like Eren. Before, they would have sorted this out like normal, with a fist fight and some name-calling. But this time they settled it out with a short period of 'lets-ignore-each-other-until-the-other-gives-in'. They stayed for hours up on top of the rooftop until time itself became just a dream.

            The two used to hate each other's guts with for no reason, and they still do, but it's different now. Now they've reached a common ground, a birth place that fosters a kind of understanding that they'll never say in words. Maybe it's because their past lives have finally caught up, and the Eren and Jean can now finally understand one another.

            Maybe Eren doesn't see Jean as that selfish child who only cares about the his own survival, or that coward who hides behind his actions, or that boy who'd rather join the Militia Police than fight for humanity. And maybe Jean doesn't see Eren as that reckless child who's actions gets every one of his comrades killed, or that wannabe hero thinking he can take on the world, or that boy who'd join the Survey Corps because he doesn't value his own life.

 

            When morning comes the two of them haven't moved in inch. Birds tweet and dew falls off of grass blades. Their butts are numb and their bodies ache. Both of them are starving, but they don’t care to move.

 

            "Is this it?" asks Eren. "Is this all there is in this world for us?"

            "It don't know," replies Jean watching Eren getting lost in the sun rising, "but we've got lifetimes to find out."

           

            Maybe in this world, the two of them will finally be able to call an existence as their own.

           

**Author's Note:**

> There is a sequel! (check Part 2)
> 
> Songs:  
> Pyramid Song - Radiohead  
> How to Disappear Completely - Radiohead
> 
> Yes, I'm a fan of Radiohead, and yes it's all angsty loneliness and crap.  
> I started this fic with the aim of it being a short coffee-shop drabble, but it ended up being a longer one-shot with added hints of reincarnation.  
> I'm fascinated with the idea that soul mates are two souls intertwined. They don't necessarily have to be lovers, or compatible or anything. But their fates and lives are constantly bash heads with each other. Each lifetime, they meet and meet again as entirely different people or things. I guess it's just me trying to force myself into believing that there is something more to life than just 'this'.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed!


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